Fresh Start
by Elianara
Summary: A Cabin Pressure crossover. Post Reichenbach. Sherlock's been gone for a while and Molly decides on a fresh start but she can't quite shake the detective. Martin Creiff is only one of the reasons. M to be safe.


Molly sipped her coffee from the paper cup, crushing the leftovers of the rather tasteless muffin that had been her late lunch in its bag. Toby was sniffing his new bare surroundings with a wounded look. He'd get over it, they both would.

The change was overdue. Seeing her life reduced to a modest pile of cardboard boxes she understood that now. All those years of him and more than a year and a half of -well- not him. It was enough.

When her best friend from uni, Marie - a paediatrician, had mentioned the job when they were at a hen night together she had laughed. She loved London and she loved Barts, she'd worked bloody hard to get the job there and there was no way she'd leave it to go to a lesser position out in the sticks.

So it surprised her that, as she soothed her hangover with toast and marmite the following day she listlessly looked at the job advert on her laptop. Then at estate agents, then at the surprisingly pretty town centre.

From that it seemed only a few short weeks until the leaving party and the seemingly endless cardboard boxes which she would swear were unpacking themselves when she wasn't looking. Now she was here. A two bed detached house on a new estate on the edge of town, the sort of place she couldn't afford in London. Half an hours walk from the town centre less than that from the river. Her new job at the general hospital waiting for her on Monday.

Her stuff, once she had sold and given away a few things amounted to one transit vans worth. After complaining to Marie about the cost of London removal firms and her horror of driving on the motorway in a hired van Marie suggested Icarus. With the somewhat cryptic warning that he was cheap and trustworthy but only reliable up to a point.

So she wasn't surprised when she got the message at nine this morning that, due to another job running over, he wouldn't be able to pick up her stuff till eleven. Molly, anxious to get on the road herself, went ahead with Toby. Leaving the rest of her worldly goods in the care of her neighbour.

It was about an hour later than expected, just as she was idly looking at the square of grass out of her front window and realising she was now responsible for it, that the van pulled up.

The rain was pissing down as the hunched hooded figure jogged round to open the back door. Though she was annoyed at him for being late she could hardly let him unload himself in that. He was only charging her ten quid an hour after all.

She grabbed her raincoat and went out, carefully shutting Toby in the kitchen.

'Molly Hooper is it?' The man said, voice loud over torrential rain.

'Yeah, just chuck it all in the hall for now.'

They spent the next ten minutes relaying back and forth. Getting soaked to the skin. Once everything was finally in she shut the awful weather outside.

'I'll just get what I owe you. Would you like a tea or something?' She asked as she came across the right box with kettle and mugs.

'That would be nice. Thanks. Sorry I didn't introduce myself Martin Creiff.' He pulled down his hood and stuck out a pale hand.

Molly froze, only for second, but it happened and he saw it, withdrawing his hand. It was a trick of bone structure, she a pathologist should know that. The slender hands and the cheekbones, sharp and lean were so like him for a moment she expected him to pull off the strawberry blonde wig and reveal himself.

 _For fucks sake Molly._

'I'm sorry I'm soaked.' Martin said drawing himself together as if trying to take up less space.

'No, it's fine- me too.' Molly stuck out her own hand and they briefly shook.

'Here,' She rummaged in a, bag behind her.'Use this.' She tossed him a hand towel. Watching him covertly as she plugged in and filled the kettle. A passing resemblance, at best, she was seeing things.

Opting to ignore her own craziness for now she gave Martin his tea, opened a packet of hobnobs and picked his brains about Fitton. What Chinese was best, traffic bottlenecks, decent pubs. The sort of thing only a local really knew. His knowledge was decidedly patchy, apart from when talking about the airfield just behind her estate which had started off as a base for spitfires in the war and currently was home to a charter firm and a few leisure fliers.

A closet plane spotter it seemed.

'So you're a pathologist then?' Martin said, taking another biscuit.

'I am.' A good sign. The number of people, men especially, who would smile politely, push away anything they happened to be eating and then quickly change the subject never ceased to surprise her. She sort of got it, it was where her hands had been and distaste around death.

'Do you watch CSI and point out the mistakes then? ' He asked.

'Oh yes, though NCIS for preference, Ducky' s my favourite fictional pathologist.'

The question had thrown her for a second. The thing was it had been the last thing she had done with Sherlock. There had been some minor balls up with his initial transport out of the country once he'd fallen from the roof. He was stuck in her flat for a couple of days, out of his tree with boredom so she had broken out her box sets and they had a marathon session of fictional forensics.

He was sad and anxious of course but, the initial deed done, he had relaxed a bit. It had almost been fun. She had started to think, again, that maybe once all this was over there was a sliver of a chance. Moving here was the most recent drastic step in trying to move on.

As if prompted her phone chimed. A text from Marie wanting to buy her dinner that night. She was enthusiastically replying yes as Martin got up to leave. putting on his damp coat.

'Well thanks, that's what I owe you.' She handed him an envelope. Which he stuffed in his pocket without opening. Actually it was about twenty five per cent over what they'd agreed. Just because Molly felt she'd be taking the piss paying him that.

'I hope it all goes well for you and I might see you again...or not, Fitton' s a big place. Well smaller than London obviously. ..'He stuttered then tailed off, blushing to his ears as he walked towards the door.

'Yeah, I hardly know anyone so..nice to have someone to say hello to. Bye Martin.' She smiled and waved as she closed the door behind him.

 _ **Thanks for reading**_.


End file.
